


indefinite

by qhostchilds



Category: mcyt
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:01:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29802612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qhostchilds/pseuds/qhostchilds





	indefinite

time passed differently in the afterlife. its not like one could tell how long it had been either way, no sun or moon to use to determine the time. it was a blank, black void with a liquid floor. everything was cast in a dull red glow, as if there were a fluorescent sign hanging above the two heads that sat alone in the empty. but there was no definitive source, there wasn't one for anything, wilbur had concluded after what felt like months of being sat in the afterlife with a man he once despised with ever fiber of his being. nothing was definite here except the two of them, and the ground beneath them, the strange clear fluid seemed like it should swallow them whole and drag them deep down into whatever strange abyss was below, bit it remained still, as if they were beings so light they wouldn't have bee able to penetrate the surface if they tried. 

there was only the two of them. it had been this way since wilbur had woken up on the floor, ears ringing and chest aching as crimson poured from the gaping hole in his middle. of course, the first and only face he would see for what he could only determine as eternity would be one of his enemy. he could remember the hatred and seized into his chest as he would scramble to his feet, only to be instantly winded and fall back to his knees. the other man wouldn't react and watch him dully, empty bottle resting at his feet as he sat upon the always shimmering floor. 

they'd sit in silence for so long, wilbur would be the first one to speak, after he got over the shock of seeing his own ribs poking from under his flesh. first, he'd ask where they were, ask of the shifting floor and mysterious light cast upon them with no source. schlatt would respond with a shrug and something witty, of course answering none of his questions. that was when he'd realize he'd actually been dead, events that seemed like they had been moments before flooding back to his head like a clap of thunder ringing through his ears. 

he was dead, just as he'd wanted. just as he'd begged.

he felt bad for feeling so relieved, not having to handle the burden of his life anymore. he knew his family could take care of themselves. phil, already having been alive for centuries and caring for children all the while making sure he himself stays alive with his one life, wilbur knew he was capable of handling himself. he looked up to him all his life, when he was little he craved for the same life, staying alive as long as you were capable of keeping that life. that was until he could see the pain in his fathers eyes, of watching so many he'd love die of old age and being forced to move on, for that to be the continuous cycle. when he was a teen he decided mortality was good. phil had kept himself alive for so long, there was no worry for having to care for him.

his brothers... techno was capable, for the most part. wilbur had faith in him to keep an eye on their family, even with their opposing sides. techno was strong, if he had been dealt the same card as phil and have to fight for the one life he'd been given, he could see him outliving the old man. 

tommy. when he remembered his little brother, he felt the guilt seep past his ribs and settle into a pit in his chest. he'd handled so much, at such a young age. most of it was from wilbur himself, putting so much onto the kids shoulders- it was a mistake on his part. the pit inside of him sunk to his stomach, making wilbur kneel to the floor, hands wringing together as his mind slowly started to race. 

it wasnt that he thought tommy couldnt handle himself, of course he could, but tommy was good at getting himself into trouble. more times than wilbur could count, he remembered having to step in to play the big older brother role when tommy was carried away, having to stop him from running his mouth so much he'd get himself into fights. tommy was a loose canon. the thought of anything else happening to him, more damage than what wilbur himself had regrettably already caused onto his younger brother made him sick. he doubled over, clutching the still bleeding wound in his chest, feeling it writhe with the pain and guilt struck into him, hurting worse than the sword that felt as if it were there mere moments ago. 

he'd left his family behind, for no other reasons than his own selfish desire to be rid of his own problems. to burden someone else with them, without realizing who's shoulders they may fall upon.

these were his thoughts for however long he'd been in the afterlife. for time passes differently than it does in the overworld. it is not definitive. 

there was a growing space in the afterlife, however. he felt as though someone would be coming soon.

a time passed where he'd here a few echoes from the living world, some sounded familiar, he could hear the ones who used to be his friends. it was all shouting, muddled together. until there was a silence. there would be one voice that would sound clear as day to him. 'let's make wilbur proud.' it would say. 'SUCK IT GREEN BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY!' it would continue. somehow he knew what was going on beyond the afterlife, hearing more of the voices echoing. imprisoning dream. a war finally being won. tommy's discs being returned. it was then wilbur knew tommy was capable of everything all along, without needing him there. he would smile, eyes shutting slowly as he let out a long sigh. tommy was safe, tubbo was safe, no one was coming. still, the space remained, but felt father away.

he could hear them, as if he were right there with them. cat playing over the chirping of crickets as the two boys celebrated their victory. the veil was thin, where they were and to where he was. he would go through, just for a moment. tommy didn't seem entirely pleased, of course. he'd come and try to tease him to smile, ask how they had even managed to get out alive. it was short lived. afterwards something was mentioned, about him being brought back. then it was shut.

there was a long silence afterwards. the space was growing, however. but he hadn't heard any other echoes, felt no more thin spots between the living world and the afterlife, nothing. wilbur sat with this growing space beside him, feeling as though something, someone, was approaching. the space was going to get filled. wilbur could only hope it would be with someone more tolerable than schlatt. 

"stop it stop it sTOP IT STOP-"

wilburs head snapped up. the space. the empty space that he felt growing for so long. it was gone. the space was filled. he scrambled to his feet, sending rippling rings away from his feet on the liquid floor. he stayed quiet, listening. 

"..sam? sam let me out.. i want... out..."  
a beat of silence would pass. the voice sounded hoarse, pained, as if he had been screaming for hours.  
"... where am i..?"

tommy. wilbur felt his heart shatter. he turned around slowly, scanning for any sort of figure that stood out against the black surrounding him. after seeing nothing, he would turn about, until his gaze landed on the heap that lay on the floor. he grew cold, breath catching in his throat. tommy. his legs moved before he could think, already sprinting towards the bloodied body that was his little brother. his tommy. 

"tommy, tommy.. i'm here. i'm here, its okay."

he fell to his knees at the blonds side, solid white gaze of his eyes scanning over the frame before him. he was battered, cuts and bruises littered all over his arms and legs, blood streaming from his nose and gashes that littered his face and swollen cheeks. 

"wilbur..? wh.. what are you doing here? where- where am i?"

it was when the same, milky white gaze met his that made the pang of guilt spread from his chest. he couldn't bring himself to speak, seeing his little brother in such a state, knowing this was his fate... as tommy started to lift himself from where he lay upon the floor and started to look around, he heard the forced, uneasy chuckle the young boy would make when he knew something had gone wrong except past his split lips.

"i'm dead, aren't i?" tommy said, head turning to gaze up to his brother with tired eyes, one swollen and bruised.

with wet eyes wilbur brought himself to nod. this wasn't meant to happen. they werent supposed to see eachother for so much longer. why was he here? why tommy? it's too soon. 

tommy then slumped against the brunettes chest tiredly, as if he had just returned from a war, battered and bruised and completely scarred, and shook. tommy knew it wasn't meant to be this way either, he knew that even despite wilbur's obvious rejection to the idea of being brought back, they were meant to see each other again alive. both of them with beating hearts, instead of the unusual silence that took the beats place instead. 

"you're not supposed to be here yet. not you." wilbur spoke finally, long arms moving from his sides and wrapping tightly around the boy's shoulders. he rested his forehead against the top of tommys head as his own frame began to shake.  
"this isn't how its supposed to go. it's not meant to be like this."

he wanted to ask what happened, wanted to ask who did it, and why, but somehow wilbur knew. he knew who was responsible for sending tommy here too soon, for giving his little brother such a tragic fate. his body trembled as he held the other close, refraining from asking his questions and instead resorting to sit in a the static of the void, only the sounds of silent sobs leaving both of them accompanied the usual hum. they'd sit like this for an indefinite amount of time, because time passes differently on this plane. now tommy would soon have to adjust to it as well, and wait for a thinning of the veil, or listen to the strange echoes. never to see friends again, instead stuck seeing the same two faces for eternity. 

the space was filled. wilbur no longer had to question why it was there or who would be coming in its place. he did not like the answer he got, but he got one nonetheless. he'd only hope tommy was right about the possibility of revival for at least one of them. wilbur would give that up in a heartbeat, if it meant tommy could go back with the people he loved, and who loved him. 

until then, they sat in empty space, clutching one another in the dull red glow.


End file.
